Empathy
by Reibunbun
Summary: A drabble in which Rurumu struggles with too much empathy.


Though she would never dare to admit it, Rurumu despised humanity.

Individually, she had endless love to give, to her friends and family, and to any stranger in need of kindness and validation long overdue. However, she most certainly hated the overwhelming dark presence among humanity.

First she felt it when she saw the harsher side of Imuchakk's culture, felt the pain of Hinahoho and others like him as they were ostracized. Felt the physical and emotional pain inflicted by her father when she herself failed to become a warrior until she was older, fiercer, and had grown bitter to the core about her heritage.

Then she felt it stronger when she met Sinbad. The poor kid had lost his parents. Mother lost to illness because of their poverty created by an unjust government. She knew what it was like to lose a loving mother, and truly that feeling was enough to break someone to the core and leave them endlessly miserable in their more vulnerable moments. On top of this, he lost his father to a despicable war that he was targeted and hunted down for not taking part in. How horrible that felt she could only imagine, but it hurt her to hear about his suffering.

Next was when she heard of Sham Lash, and quite honestly just hearing about it had made her ill, although she did her best not to show this. Hearing the horrors of that placed hurt her. She felt her heart ache when she caught a glimpse of Ja'far's numerous scars. She saw the effects of that horrible environment on all three of them. She felt it when Vittel was moved to tears at the most basic of amenities, the thought of a supportive environment being so overwhelmingly new to him that he could hardly comprehend it. She felt it when she noticed the fear behind Mahad's eyes when he was reminded of something unpleasant, the way his hands shook and he almost seemed meek. She recognized the symptoms and pieced together the truth from what she'd heard, and it broke her heart to see her child and his companions suffering.

The pain hit a little too close to home when she heard of Mystras' story. Pressured and judged unfairly due to cultural expectations, harmed by a well meaning father who was just violently misguided and set in his ways. He was so cheerful, eager to see things as she was, but she knew it bothered him. She knew all too well what he meant when he wondered just how close his father had been to killing him that day.

Then, when she felt as though she couldn't take anymore, in came the Mariadel company. Arriving back to her home after so long to be placed in the middle of pure turmoil. Everyone upset, Vittel crying, Sinbad having been made a slave. She was quick to take charge, for once being able to take a direct action and have someone to fight for her friend's safety. Despite all the turmoil she cherished that feeling.

When she arrived with Ja'far at the place, determined to keep her wits about her and remain perfect in their charade, she could feel her heart inching ever so slightly closer to depravity.

They were just children. So many of them. All in iron collars and manipulated so cruelly that they actually thought they were happy. She didn't interact with any of them. She wasn't able to reach out and help them as she longed to do. That didn't stop her from seeing it all though. All the children, hustling about, doing who knows what. She almost broke her composure when she spotted one young woman holding what was unmistakably her child, she seemed both happy and terrified and Rurumu wanted to cry imagining what it was like birthing a child into the clutches of slavery.

Then there was Kil. Oh how her heart bled for Kil. She noticed the poor kid immediately, always right by Maader's side, attentive to her every word and command. She seemed so scared, and starved for any real affection, that it broke Rurumu's heart. The poor girl was snapped at and invalidated and though it was something she did not witness, it was painfully apparent that the poor child was mistreated terribly.

She was determined not to let it shake her. Not when she needed to stay calm. Not when they desperately needed to free Sin. She managed to pull it off. She managed to beat Maader at her own game and while she was proud of that victory, it came at the cost of another small part of her heart dying.

And then there was the rebellion. When Sinbad and Ja'far returned home with all the remaining slave children, and Ja'far told her the story, she could barely comprehend such a harsh reality. Sinbad had in his desperation caused so many children to be killed. She didn't want to but she found herself asking about Kil. Hearing that the child died defending the woman who had enslaved her, killed by her fellow slaves, and hearing about all the lives lost in that rebellion, it was too much for her to handle honestly.

She didn't let the others see, but she cried that day. She cried for every child lost and she felt like she would never stop crying. She wracked her brain for anything she could have done to saved them. She tried to blame herself but the only thing she could blame was the general injustice in humanity.

The sadness didn't end there. No. Not after witnessing the effects first hand from the Mariadel company. The poor children that remained with them after the rebellion, they were all so scared. Traumatized thoroughly, she did her best to comfort them when they cried for their fallen friends. When they cried for their non existent families.

Everything hurt. She felt everyone's suffering, she felt it and her inability to stop it filled her with shame. She tried everything she could to help them. She tutored, and cooked, and comforted, and offered words of advice. She was a shoulder to cry on, she rarely dropped her guard. She was there for her children, there for her friends. She desperately looked for tonics and remedies for nightmares and things to help the mental and physical scars fade. She dedicated herself a hundred and fifty percent to her company and to her family. She gave everything, but it wasn't enough.

How could she compete with so much injustice? How was she alone supposed to fix all the world's many cruelties? She couldn't. She knew she couldn't and though she knew this wasn't her fault it was if nothing else disparaging. She couldn't stop feeling the pain. She couldn't be rid of that helpless feeling. She would forever regret every missed opportunity to help, and she would feel the shame of her perceived shortcomings till her very last moments before she fell victim to the same injustice and descended into an early grave. In perhaps her only moment of selfishness, or what she perceived as such, she was forced to give it all up and leave behind her precious friends and family.


End file.
